Adapt (SMT/Worm AU)

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"The God you worship is dead."

At first, Taylor thought those words meant nothing. She was atheist after all. Why would she believe in god? Unfortunately for her, the ordinary life she lived is thrown on its head after she wakes up in the hospital and finds that Brockton Bay is on a downward spiral, worse than the one it was already on.

Between rumors of "demonic creatures" and the villainous capes that rule Brockton Bay, will there be anything left of the city? Or will Taylor's journey end before it can even begin?
0.1 Occult (Prologue)

SkyRig

Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
Location
Someplace in California
Pronouns
He
Be born.

Grow.

Awaken.

Enter conflict.

Die.

And be born again.

It is a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth, destined to repeat over and over again until a suitable conclusion has been reached.

Some say this cycle is to prevent total collapse, or at the very least to survive the "end." Others claim the cycle is either a trial issued by god or a curse from the devil.

Regardless of what interpretation you choose, the fact remains that humans are fated to live a cursed existence. Their mortal coils—their flesh—made as dolls as part of a grand game. Once upon a time, you were bound by strings and played a grand puppeteer who feared what you could do if you had no strings.

I severed those strings, and allowed you to walk of your free will. I give you the choice you needed to ascertain whether or not your life was indeed cursed.

But…have you truly escaped your fate?

You have no strings, yet you still play your part. This macabre play continues, endlessly and without a conclusion in sight.

…fear not, however.

Soon, you shall make your second choice once you have walked the path of strife. The road ahead will be long and arduous, filled with pain, death and despair. And once you have endured, you must decide for yourself.

Can you live as you are now, leading a helpless existence that will inevitably splutter and fade?

Can you live a life where you do as you are told, able to live without fear of danger or the threat of death?

Can you live a life where you are bound by no one, able to live how you see fit?

Can you life a life unseen, able to find it amid the conflict that will arise?

Regardless of what decision you take, remember this.

The cycle shall be broken.

You may ask, "How can this cycle be broken?"

And thus, I answer.


The God you worship is dead.

Order has crumbled, and chaos shall swallow all of creation. The Cycle that He and the Others see fit to perpetuate shall shatter, and from it, a new world order can be born—a future yet unseen.

Child of Man—you who were cursed with power.

Know that the conflicts you shall endure will pave the way.

Know that a World awaits you.

Know creation. Know destruction. Know death.

Know that you must decide your own fate…
So, this is my second Worm fanfic, and my first solo project. My other project, Devil Trigger, is co-written by a friend of mine who introduced me to Worm and was more knowledgeable about the setting than I was, since at the time, I was only just starting to read it. At the time of this writing, I have completed my reading of Worm and am just starting to read Ward.

Some of you might be able to tell that this "prologue" was inspired by the first chapter of The Watcher Network's Worm-in-Waiting, fantastic read by the way. 10/10 would recommend. It doesn't really give you guys a lot in the way of information, and that's sort of the point. It's supposed to keep things vague, or at the very least, give you a slight inkling about what you might expect.

Now, for those of you who recognized the initials "SMT," you are in for a treat and I whole-heartily promise you will enjoy it (Maybe! I promise nothing!). As for the uninitiated, allow me to give you an abridged version. "SMT" stands for Shin Megami Tensei, which is a game series created by ATLUS. It's spawned numerous titles and spin-offs, one of which you might know as the Persona series, and two mainline entries are scheduled to be released for the Nintendo Switch in 2021. Each mainline entry in SMT follows its own unique story, but for the most part, they are all set in a post-apocalyptic setting of some sort and follow the themes of Law, Chaos, and Neutrality. Law is often associated with angels and discusses the evils of free will, while Chaos is associated with demons, the idea of a "might makes right" world and free will being necessary for such a world. Neutrality is what you might expect.

I won't spend the whole A/N giving you a history lesson. If you're curious, check out these videos.

On another note, the next chapter for Devil Trigger is in the works and may or may not be up by tomorrow or the day after.

See you guys in the next one!
 
0.2 Occult (Prologue)
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock going off. My body groaned in protest as I stirred awake not wanting to roll out of bed just yet. At first I tried to ignore my alarm and go back to sleep, but the constant beeping quickly ate away at my patience. I sighed reluctantly and rolled onto my side, slapping my hand down on the snooze button. Silence fell over my room, but it was a pyrrhic victory seeing as how I was now awake, if only barely.

The first thought I had was, I had better get ready for school, only to stop myself when I reached to take off my nightclothes and replace them with the articles scattered across my floor. I felt so tired coming home last night that I shed my clothes, half-heartedly tossed on something decent and warm then hopped into bed. The clothes scattered about on my floor were the ones I were yesterday, no doubt reeking of sweat.

Another reason why I stopped was the thought that I might have to see them again. I never saw their faces, but I heard their giggles and mocking laughter outside. Just thinking about that moment—about that fucking locker—made me want to curl up into a ball and just forget about everything. I wanted to pretend that I was someone else that this was not my life anymore, but it was. All of this was mine, from my time at Winslow to the jeering looks and taunts off my classmates and "friends".

"Taylor? Taylor, honey, are you okay?"

Dad's voice echoed downstairs.

I sucked in a breath to calm myself down. I could not let him see me like this. "I'm okay, Dad. Give me a sec," I called back downstairs before I pulled off my sheets. I tossed off my nightclothes and slipped on a t-shirt and sweatpants along with a ratty-old sweater, then left my room behind.

I made my way downstairs and found Dad sitting at the table. A coffee mug sat next to a plate with half-eaten buttered toast with eggs and a discarded newspaper on the other side. I glanced at the clock and frowned. Dad should have gone to work by now. Did he sleep in late or was he skipping work? That last one sounded wrong, especially since Dad rarely, if ever, took a sick day. He was always working, even if he was coming down with the cold. Hell, Brockton Bay could be suffering and Endbringer attack and Dad would still have gone to work. I assumed it had been his coping mechanism to get his mind off Mom's death, the paperwork and management of the workers keeping him busy.

I winced slightly when he saw me and smiled. It was awkward and clearly strained. "Hey, sweetie. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess?" I shrugged. I was only half-awake and my mind was still cloudy, so I don't really remember much about what happened yesterday aside from me finally being allowed to leave the hospital. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I took some time off."

I frowned a little. "You didn't have to do that, Dad. Your work is important, isn't it?" I immediately regretted saying that when I saw Dad wince. My fingers dug past the fabric of the sweater and into my arm. "I have to get ready for school."

"You don't. I pulled you from Winslow."

I stared at him wide-eyed. For a moment, I swore I heard him wrong. "W-what?"

"I called Principal Blackwell and informed her that you won't be so much as setting a foot in that god-forsaken place. It's going to take some time, but I'm pulling some strings and see if I can't get you into Arcadia."

I should have been ecstatic. I should have been happy. I should have been over the moon when he told me that. The idea that I would never have to see kids my age wearing gang colors or smoking in plain view or openly insulting teachers to their faces or the graffiti-slathered walls of Winslow High School should have made my heart skip a beat. I would have felt even better if I never had to see the Trio ever again, but there was always the chance that I would run into them somewhere in Brockton Bay or the Boardwalk.

Instead, all I felt was confusion and bitterness. It must have shown on my face because Dad suddenly said, "Did…you not want to go to Arcadia?"

"It's not that," I said hastily. "It's just…why?" Why now? Why now, of all times, did he decide to start acting like "Dad" again?

"Because I…" Dad sighed and shook his head. I saw emotions run through his face while he turned his head away from me. The shame he felt was written all over his face. "Why didn't you tell me about the bullying?"

There it was. The question I did not want to hear be asked. I knew deep down it was would be asked and I never knew what the right answer was. I could not stand the silence that followed after he asked the question, finding it to be suffocating. At the same time, I did not trust myself to speak, worried what I would say next was full of bitter and venom.

"I didn't want you to be ashamed."

A half-hearted answer, unsure of whether or not it was the correct one to respond with, fell from my lips.

Dad stared at me, mouth agape in shock. "Ashamed?" he repeated in disbelief. "What are you saying? I wouldn't have-!" He shakes his head again. "I would have done something if you told me!"

"Would you?" I couldn't stop myself. Why did he have to keep talking? Why did he keep asking those fucking questions? Why didn't he just stop? I tried to reel myself in, clamp my mouth shut, do anything to stop the words from coming out, but they came out anyway, so bitter and angry that I could not stop myself. "I told my classmates what was happening, and they didn't do anything. I told the teachers and they didn't do anything either, except maybe scold them. I told the Principal, and she didn't believe anything I told her. Would you really have believed me if told you what Emma and Sophia did to me?"

I found myself out of breath. I felt hot. My clothes felt so tight. By the time I came back to my senses, I saw Dad's face and cursed at myself. I turned away and rushed as fast as I could towards the door.

"I'm going for a walk."

The door nearly tore itself from its hinges from how hard I pulled. I put as much distance as I could between my house and me, making a beeline towards the Boardwalk.

Way to go, Taylor Hebert. You really are the absolute worst daughter.



Danny watched as his daughter leave, her expression bitter and angry—both at him and herself—unable to find the strength to stop her. As much as he would have liked to deny it, her words hurt. They hurt worse than when his wife died, and made him realize just how big the gap between him and Taylor had become.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself for the umpteenth time since this whole thing started.

He wished Annette was here and not him. She never would have allowed this to happen to their daughter. And even if it had, she would have made damn sure those responsible would have paid dearly for it.

"Way to go, Danny Hebert," he scowled. "You really are the absolute worst father."

Not going to lie, the conversation felt a little wonky to me. I'm thinking of re-writing the scene to be honest, but what do you guys thinks?

Unlike in Devil Trigger, Adapt's opening arc is set a few days after the locker incident. Taylor's feelings about her dad are a little jumbled right now, and their relationship is definitely going to take a lot of time to repair.

The length of the chapters for this arc will vary a little, but I'm mostly aiming to keep these at around 2K in length at best. I don't want to burn myself out writing like 8k length chapters or something, especially since I'm in the process of writing a juggernaut of a chapter for my YGO! Arc-V fanfic right now.

Let me know what you guys think about this chapter. Any thoughts of criticisms?
 
0.3 Occult (Prologue)
I reached the Boardwalk in under a few minutes, desperate to get away from my house as fast as possible. My chest was hurting and my body was hot. I could barely breathe. Once I managed to catch my breath, I sat down on a nearby bench and rest for a minute. I could barely think.

Why? Why did I say all of that? Why couldn't I stop myself? Fuck, this was the worst. I knew I shouldn't blame him, but damn it, why now?! Why did he have to start acting like a dad now?! Why didn't he act like this when I needed him the most?

No, I couldn't think like that. The blame didn't entirely belong to Dad. In fact, most of it was my fault. I was afraid he wouldn't believe me, so I never told him just how bad Winslow was. I never told him about Emma.

I took a deep breath, curling my knees into my chest. This was such a fucked up week. First the locker incident, and now this.

…then again, I suppose it wasn't all that bad. There was a silver lining, I suppose. As horrible as the locker incident had been, I found out something new about myself. I debated whether I wanted to tell Dad, but after what happened, I was better off not saying anything.

As…disgusting and unusual as controlling bugs is, it's a useful powerful if you're doing recon work, I guess? I mean, I more or less found a way to make my dream come true. I had a chance to become a hero.

More than that, I could prove I was better than them. Than the Trio.

Of course, I knew becoming a hero wasn't going to be easy. I needed training and a good understanding of my powers, which was the first of things to do on my To-Do List. I needed to learn how many bugs I could control and how far my control could go, as well as how many I could command.

Thinking about this made me calm down a little. Slowly, my argument with dad fluttered away from my mind. I started to relax.

To be honest, I had no idea what to do first. Learning the limits of my power came first obviously, last thing I wanted to do was get myself into a fight half-cocked and not know how my powers worked. Other than that, I also needed to work on the physical limits of my body. I was stick-thin with no muscle, and my stamina was crap. I had to build up some muscle, maybe learn some martial arts. I don't think Dad would argue about me getting some self-defense classes, considering the shithole that is Brockton Bay.

I wondered why I developed the powers that I did. I read online that being in a traumatic event could cause someone to Trigger, but they weren't very detailed. I'm sure the PRT knew more about it, but I wasn't comfortable about joining the Wards just yet. I didn't know if they were accepting anyone right now, much less a stranger. How would I be able to contribute?

Plus, there was the possibility the PRT would be suspicious about me. I didn't have any criminal background and my parents were upstanding citizens (to the best of my knowledge) but there was no way to be certain. It also didn't help that we lived in Brockton Bay, which was a cesspit of epic proportions. The PRT was stretched thin enough as it is with gangs pressing them on every corner, but there was also the fact that the PRT was outgunned. They just didn't have enough manpower, and if discussions on the PHO meant anything, there was nothing Director Piggot could do to request aid.

The higher-ups likely considered Brockton Bay to be a lost cause.

I knew that, even if I had a good understanding of my powers and joined the PRT, I wouldn't contribute much. I was just one person. Me joining them wasn't going to change anything, except maybe give them an extra helping hand.

I sighed slightly. How would I even go about joining the PRT in the first place? I sincerely doubt it was as easy as just walking inside, telling the person at the front desk I was a cape and I wanted to join the Wards.

"What? Come on, you're pulling my leg! You expect me to believe a load of bull like that?"

"Hey, I'm being completely serious here! The Demon Summoning App is a real thing!"

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing two guys I recognized as my seniors from Winslow eating near a taco truck.

"There's a URL and everything, though you have to get it from a chat room on the PHO."

"Oh yeah? Which one?"

"The Gaia Initiative, I think it's called? I hear they only allow members to join the chat room, though. It's freaking weird, though, since you get asked a ton of questions straight out of a JRPG or something."

"If it's members only, how do you get in? Who do you talk to if you want membership?"

"A friend of mine told me there are a bunch of steps, but the short of it is, you have to talk to some guy on PHO that goes by the username Lord_Of_Flies. Tell him you're interested in the occult stuff, and he asks you some questions. If you answer his questions right, you get an invite to the chat room, and bam! Instant URL!"

"Whatever, man. I still think you're full of it. I mean, come on! Demons? Probably just some scam."

Their conversation faded as I lost interest. I agreed with my senior in that it sounded ludicrous. I wouldn't be surprised if it was some kind of scam, though I do have to admit, the steps to even get this supposed URL was curious enough to make it seem interesting in checking it out.

A shame I didn't have a phone, though. I could have looked up the PHO easily. Maybe I could swing by the library.

"A lovely day, don't you think?"

A voice called out beside me. I turn my head and stare. Without me noticing, a woman had walked up and sat next to me. Her clothes told me she was probably someone important; a black suit with a mini-skirt, sun-kissed blonde hair spilling down over her shoulders with a figure even Sophia and Emma would kill for and wearing sunglasses. Her face was heart-shaped, skin fair and sporting light pink lips that looked incredibly soft.

She was beautiful, almost inhumanly so. I stared at her for what must have been a minute before I realized she was looking at me with a wry smile. Realizing what I was doing, I looked away and apologized. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine. I get plenty looks like that, you are hardly the first. Still, what's a girl like you doing out on the Boardwalk all by yourself? Doesn't seem very safe, especially when you are all alone."

I scoff. "Is anywhere in this city safe?"

"A fair point, but you haven't answered my question."

I frowned a little, wondering whether I should answer before shrugging. It wouldn't hurt to tell her.

"I got into an argument with my Dad about something that happened. I… I said some hurtful things. Things that I kept bottled up in my chest. The sort of stuff I dream of saying in my head, but never want to say out loud. The worst part is, I don't know why I yelled at him. It all just came rushing out of me." I shook my head. "I just… I feel so angry at him, but I know he means well."

The woman hummed. "I see… Sounds like you have a complicated time."

"You have no idea…" I nodded in agreement. "So, what about you? What brought you to Brockton Bay?"

The woman smiled rather strangely. "Oh, a lot of things. Though I admit, one thing in particular drove me here. I'm hoping it will provide me with something wondrous."

"Oh? Like what?"

"I'm not entirely sure just yet. I'm playing the waiting game you see. I want to see where this new potential will go." She paused briefly, tilting her head in thought before continuing, "Although, I must admit, Brockton Bay has made me genuinely curious. It's such a terrible place, with people constantly squabbling for the pettiest of reasons. Even the villains are vying over the littlest of things. All for what, a sense of superiority? To demonstrate their prowess? Meanwhile, the heroes are helpless to fight back, too constrained by their own rules or unwilling to act because of their own thoughts."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it this way. The Azn Bad Boys are comprised of only members of the Asian communities, and to my knowledge, they only have two capes to their name. One boasts immense physical power, but all he has on his mind is to dominate and flaunt his power. He thinks himself a dragon, but what has he done to earn his scales? Has he proven how powerful he truly is by challenging those greater than him, or is he complacent and content with his prowess by wanting to rule over a place holding no importance?

"The Empire Eighty-Eight is no better. A group of fanatics seeking to revive a dead age, yet their unity is as strong as they would have others believe. They hold power, but what good is it when their goal is so short-sighted? They are content with reviving an old order and proving their strength, but in the end, they rely on a central power to keep them in line. They are no hydra. Cut off the head, and they are leaderless. And if the head has no ambition or true goal in mind, how can they hope to grow?

"The Merchants are of little importance. They hold influence, perhaps, but in the end, they are as weak as they are foolish. They have no real goals or desires. They take not out of greed, but out of a selfish desire to prove they are worth something in the eyes of society. That they, downtrodden and cast aside and beaten, are as powerful as any other, unaware of how truly fragile they are.

"The PRT? A group doomed to fail, both because of their own faults and of the machinations of others playing with things they don't understand. They all have good intentions, but how often do they act upon those desires? They call themselves heroes, but they're more like broken toys that will one day be cast aside when they can no longer be of use. Some merely call themselves heroes when they are anything but. They wear a mask, literally and metaphorically, claiming themselves just when they are so much lesser than that."

"I'm…not sure I understand."

The woman chuckled. "I don't expect you to. At least, not right away." She looked down at her watch. "It seems my time is short. I apologize for interrupting your free time, Taylor. Have a pleasant day."

"Oh, um, you too, miss…?"

"Cyphere. Louise Cyphre. Perhaps we will meet again in the near future…"

Louise stood up and left. I watched her leave, somewhat mystified by the swaying of her hips before shaking my head furiously. What the heck was I doing, ogling a woman like that? Especially one older than me?! I mean, sure, she was drop dead gorgeous and leagues more beautiful than Emma, but-

…wait.

How did she know my name?
And here we are with another short chapter. The next chapter is already in the works and is far more interesting, I promise. Namely because we're shifting perspectives over to Armsmaster and giving us a look at what's going on behind the scenes.

Also, meet Louise Cyphere. She will be a rather important character, but let's make something clear. She is not someone you want as an ally or anyone you want as an enemy, and for good reason. For those familiar with SMT, you know why. For those who aren't, just trust me on this.

On another note...does?
 
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0.4 Occult (Prologue)
The call arrived minutes after Armsmaster went out on his daily patrol. The notification pinged on his HUD as he traversed the streets, changing course from the Boardwalk to the location marked on his map.

The ride to the location in question was not very long and made it in under ten minutes. He would have gotten here faster had he driven recklessly like a kid riding a motorcycle for the first time. The area was already closed off by yellow and red tape. Cars belonging to both the Brockton Bay Police Department and the Parahuman Response Team were littered about, parked along the sidewalks and in the middle of the street. As he expected, there was a fairly decent sized crowd of onlookers, curious and already posting about what was happening on PHO. As soon as they saw him, they became excited. Some even tried to rush out past the tape and greet him.

Armsmaster ignored them entirely and continued on his way. A PRT officer stayed behind to look after his bike and ensure no one touched it while also directing him to the man in charge.

Officer Michael Gibson was one of the few people on the department that had an amicable relationship with the PRT, unlike many of his colleagues who viewed the organization with hostility and/or distrust. It was understandable that the department did not have a good relationship with the PRT, not when the criminal element was steadily growing worse and worse. Many felt frustrated by the lack of progress and the bodies that were slowly, but surely, starting to stack up. In truth, Armsmaster shared in their feelings of frustration. He had been stationed in Brockton Bay for some time now, and yet he made no progress in dealing with the rampant gangs and capes running amok in the city.

Back to Gibson, Armsmaster first met him a year after he arrived in the Bay. The man was newly instated and ran into a situation gung-ho, nearly getting himself killed in the process. He received a harsh reprimand from his superiors about his recklessness, especially when a cape had been on the scene. Armsmaster would have felt the same as Gibson's superior had the latter not revealed he managed to uncover some vital information about the operations of a minor gang that was looking to make it big. Gibson passed the information to him, aiding in the successful capture of what may have been an up and coming gang if left unchecked.

It was the first a few other, more minor meetings, but Armsmaster found himself appreciating Gibson for his dedication and service.

The officer was standing at the mouth of the alley, back facing the crime scene and speaking with Miss Militia. His colleague noticed him approaching and nodded in greeting. "Good, you're finally here. I hope you haven't had lunch today, Armsmaster."

The Tinker raised a brow at Miss Militia's words before shrugging and turning his attention to Gibson. "What do we have?"

Gibson grimaced. "We're still going over the crime scene as we speak, but so far, we have at least three or four bodies. At first we thought it was another skirmish between the gangs, or maybe some idiots went and pissed off the wrong cape."

"But?"

"But, the victims belong to different gangs," Miss Militia answered in Gibson's stead. "Two belong to the Empire, and one is from the ABB. There are probably more back in there, but those are the ones we managed to identify."

Armsmaster frowned slightly. What could be giving them so much trouble identifying the bodies? Curious, he stepped into the alley.

The alley was not very spacious and led into a dead end straight ahead, but in this time of day, the shadows cast by the nearby buildings could hide the bodies easily depending on how far away the person was from the crime scene. A few trash cans and dumpsters were damaged, showing obvious signs of a struggle. Signs pointed to a cape, if the claw marks and massive dents in the dumpsters were any indication. The trash spilled out onto the ground, the smell indicating it was a few days old at most.

Reaching the end of the alley, Armsmaster found himself stopping dead in his tracks. He stared at the crime scene, and for the first time, he found his stomach lurching uncomfortably.

"Jesus…"

Red splatters painted the walls of the alley like coats of paint. Limbs and remains of flesh were strewn about across the ground, some left in a trail that led up to a pile of eviscerated bodies. The lucky ones had chunks missing from their bodies. The rest looked as though they had been torn to pieces, their stomachs removed entirely and their intestines spilling out for all to see. One victim sticking out from the pile was missing half a head, possessing only a jaw and tongue. Anything above the jaw was gone.

Armsmaster had met his fair share of villains, some more depraved than others. But this?

"What kind of sick bastard does this?" he muttered to himself. He heard Miss Militia approach behind him. "Do we have any leads on who…or what…did this?"

The woman sighed. "No, we don't. I'm half-tempted to say Hookwolf, but between the state of the bodies and the fact that there are Empire gang members in there…"

"I doubt it was the ABB or the Merchants. Lung is a possibility, but there is a lack of burn marks in the area. That, and whatever did this was vicious-" Not to mention depraved. Now that he looked closely, some of these bodies looked as if they'd been eaten… "-and wild. I don't believe anyone in the Merchants is capable of doing this, either."

"Could it have been one of Faultline's?" Miss Militia suggested.

Armsmaster mulled the possibility in his head. The other villainous capes not affiliated with the gangs were often overlooked, so it was possible that one of them could be responsible. The other possibility was a new cape, but he heard nothing about any potentials arriving in the city or someone having undergone a Trigger event. Though now that he thought about it, he did overhear some of the agents talking about the possibility that a school girl suffering a bullying campaign having undergone a Trigger event. He may have to look into that angle when he had the time.

He looked about the alley, hoping to find a clue of some sort that might lead him to the identity of the responsible party. To his satisfaction, there was a camera installed on the upper left side of the alley wall. It was slightly damaged, but the state of the camera was of no importance to him. It was the chip inside the camera that made him worry.

He quickly dismantled the camera from the wall and began to remove the hardware. Eventually, he found his prize.

"A wireless security camera?" Miss Militia commented. "I'm surprised a shoddy workshop like this one could afford one."

"The manufacturer is Tayama Industries," Armsmaster informed her. "Aside from the obvious logo on the bottom of the camera, the parts are cheaply-made." Really, was it so hard to make decent hardware even if you had to cut a few corners? Personal feelings aside, Armsmaster slid the chip into the USB port on his helmet. "Hopefully this will provide us with a few clues."

After a few seconds of processing, the video feed captured by the security camera began to play. It was of some poor quality, a little grainy and occasionally glitching, but it had a good view of what looked to be the crime scene. It showed an Asian kid, not affiliated with the ABB as Armsmaster found no gang colors on his person, being harassed by some Empire goons, no doubt extorting him for money and whatnot. They were roughing the poor boy up quite a lot before the ABB came into the picture. Knives and bats were drawn and escalated into a full-out fight in the alley.

So far, it seemed like an ordinary crime.

At the 1 minute and 14 seconds marks, however, things took a turn for the worst.

The Asian kid's face scrunched into an emotion akin to frustration, fear and anger. He took out his phone. At first, Armsmaster thought he was making a phone call, but his thoughts were disproven when he saw a red-and-black miasma leak from the handheld communications device, followed by what looked to be a bestial Case-53 emerging from the miasma.

That was when the screaming started.

"Armsmaster?" So engrossed in the video was Armsmaster that he momentarily forgotten that Miss Militia was also here. "Did you find something?"

Armsmaster shut off the feed and looked at his colleague. "Call the Director. She's going to want to know about this." Rather than ask questions, Miss Militia nodded and walked away, already on the phone and dialing up Director Piggot. Armsmaster tapped the side of his helmet and contacted whoever was at the console. "Console, this is Armsmaster. I need you to run a search."

"You're going to want to put that on hold, Armsmaster," Clockblocker reported nervously. "We, uh, we've got a problem."

The Tinker frowned heavily. "What kind of problem?"

"Um, yeah, we-we can't find Shadow Stalker. Last time we checked in, she was supposed to be on patrol with Kid Win and Vista, but…"

Armsmaster swore under his breath.

This day can't possibly get any worse.
First off, this chapter was a little bit late compared to my usual updates since I have so much fucking free time on my hands, but for once, I have an excuse besides procrastination.

Namely that I finally have a gaming PC and Destiny 2: Beyond Light dropped not too long ago.

Priorities, dude.

Secondly, the PRT has their first glimpse of the demonic threat that will be plaguing Brockton Bay in the months to come.

Also, shame on you, Armsy, for tempting Murphy's law. Especially when Sophia gets involved.

Especially when Earth Bet and its counterparts are all part of the Amala.
 
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0.5 Occult (Prologue)
Sophia could not remember the point in which her life took a turn towards the shitter, but if she had to guess, it started when she met Taylor Hebert.

Things used to be so simple before she enrolled at Winslow and finding herself forced to work with a bunch of goody-two-shoes to avoid Juvenile Hall. The regular criminals looked at her with fear and the gangs gave her the respect she deserved, being predators themselves. They knew the score; they did not mess with her, she did not mess with them. Not that Sophia thought she could. She knew that some fights were better off avoiding and any fight involving Lung or Oni Lee was better off staying out of. She was not an idiot with some sort of death wish.

At the time, the PRT did not think much of her. They gave her offers here and there, but it had not been until they noticed how she dealt with her prey that they started getting annoying. Warnings, slaps on the wrist, the usual bullshit talk her mom and everyone else gave her. She paid them no mind and went about her business. They got really pissed when she brutally injured some nameless thug no one would give two shits about and pinned him to a wall with her crossbows. Once they learned who she was under the mask, they gave her an offer that she had no choice but to accept.

Working with the Wards and taking orders infuriated Sophia to no end. She thought that Miss Militia and Armsmaster, one being some hardcore nationalist chick and the other more machine than man, would be the predators she aspired to be like, but to her dismay, they were just as soft-hearted. The Wards weren't much better. Clockblocker was too fucking annoying, Kid Win was obnoxious, Vista was as bratty as she looked. And those were just the worst of the bunch, and by far the most flattering she had to say about them.

It was not all bad, thankfully. Her meeting and subsequent rescue of Emma and Alan Barnes had been a stroke of good luck. The man felt indebted to her and managed to give her some leeway in the PRT. Saving a lawyer and his daughter made it look like she was "learning her lesson." They were idiots if they thought she was getting soft.

Alan Barnes was useful, but his daughter was…interesting, to say the least. By all rights, she was just some ordinary girl with no powers. All she had were her good looks and that was it. Yet when push came to shove, rather than run, she had the strength to fight back. That was all the proof Sophia needed to know she was a survivor. At first, she thought she could leave Emma alone, but for a reason Sophia couldn't fathom, the red-headed latched on her to life she was some kind of lifeline. Not as a leech like so many other useless idiots, but as someone she wished to learn from.

Being a predator, Sophia did not see any reason to deny her. As time went on, as strange as it was to say, Emma Barnes became less of a "student" and more of a "friend". Of course, the girl still held on to some sentimental attachments it seemed, what with her trying to convince Sophia that someone as useless and weak as Taylor Hebert could be a predator as well. First impressions told Sophia that the girl was as plain and weak as they could get. Not even prey, just worthless fodder. Why Emma thought she had some fangs on her she had no idea, but she humored her.

To Sophia's surprise, Emma proved more than willing to give Taylor the "push" she needed. She used every dirty trick she could think of, even bringing up her dead mother into the equation. She applauded the girl for her ruthlessness, especially when after a year of doing so, Taylor Hebert proved just why Sophia thought she was fodder. She fought back a few times, but they were so pathetic and weak it would be more appropriate to say she floundered like a fish out of water.

A year went by, and Sophia decided she needed to prove to Emma why Taylor Hebert wasn't worth their time. She pitched the idea to Emma and Madison, the latter only joining their escapades for no other reason than to hang out with the "cool kids", though they had been hesitant at first. It took some convincing, but near the end of winter break, she finally convinced them.

It went off without a hitch at first. It seemed like Emma finally got the message.

It was not until after Taylor Hebert had been hospitalized that the PRT realized what they had been up to and put their foot down. She didn't know how they knew about it or why they would get involved, but they did. What leniency they gave her thanks to Alan's suggestion vanished in an instant. They got wind of the incident, grilling Principal Blackwell for answers and when they did, they put literal shackles on her.

Sophia just could not understand why the PRT would get involved in something like this. The teachers considered it to be bullying, albeit taken too far after what happened, so they shouldn't have even knew about it unless some in school blabbed about the whole thing or a PRT agent was keeping tabs on her even while she was at school. The last one seemed to be the most plausible case, which only angered her more. Her infuriation grew when that fatass Piggot screamed at her for causing a PR stunt waiting to happen.

Did they actually believe that wimp could Trigger? As if.

The feeling of indignation continued to grow until Sophia couldn't stomach it anymore. The moment she saw her opportunity to blow off steam by ditching her so-called "teammates" she took it. Granted, Armsmaster and Miss Militia were likely to have words with her, but fuck them.

Sophia glided over a rooftop before touching the edge, peering down below. The alleys were as dark and filthy as ever, the usual scum finding it to be an excellent place to conduct their business. To her joy, she found two prime punching bags for her to vent her frustrations on; a Merchant drug dealer and some twit looking to get high. The dealer looked like he hadn't bathed in days and the twit was some stupid kid in an honest-to-god high school uniform.

A rich kid looking for cheap thrills. What a big surprise, Sophia rolled her eyes beneath her mask before double-checking to see if her equipment was combat-ready. Alright, fuckers. Showtime.

She wasted no time in busting the deal, dropping down between them and immediately getting to work. She clocked out the drug dealer first, ramming her knee into his stomach while he was still in a shock about her sudden appearance, following up and grabbing a fistful of hair and breaking his nose with her fist before finally clocking his lights out with a punch to the stomach and knee to the face. He hit the ground with a dull thud.

"W-what the hell?!"

Sophia craned her head and glared at the twit. "Two choices, fucker. Get on your knees and beg, or try fighting me. See which one will earn you more bruises and broken bones." She took great pleasure in the look of fear in his eyes, filling with glee as he started to step back away from her like cornered prey.

She was about to deal with the twit until she heard a strangled noise from behind her. "Y-you fucking bitch! You broke my nose!" Sophia frowned and turned back to the Merchant as he stumbled up to his feet. He was more resilient than he looked. The Merchant took in her features and his anger skyrocketed. "Y-you! I remember you, you bitch! You were that psycho vigilante who pinned me to a wall!"

"Oh, was that you? Sorry, I don't remember all the pansy-ass weaklings I've had to deal with," Sophia growled. "And after this, you'll wish you were dead."

Despite the bashed-in nose and blood leaking down his face, much less the fact he was staring death in the face, the Merchant somehow had the balls to look smug. "Not this time, cunt!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, making Sophia scoff. Did he really think having friends was going to make this easier for him? "I got something special for myself if I ever saw your pasty white bitch ass again!"

"You wish!"

Sophia was not going to bother wasting her time dealing with this idiot. She aimed her crossbow right as he started to dial for his friends and fired. The crossbow hit him square in the chest, piercing deep into his chest and right into his lung. He coughed up blood almost immediately, losing his bravado in an instant and falling to his knees. His phone fell from his hand and clattered to the ground.

Just as she was about to advance toward him, the phone started to puff out red-and-black smoke.

"What the shit?"

"Kakakakakakakakakaka! Kakakakakakakakaka! Free at last, baby!"

Before Sophia had time to register the warped, child-like giggling that came from the phone, a black shape erupted from the cell phone and lunged towards the Merchant drug dealer, briefly obscuring Sophia's vision. Seconds later, blood and flesh flew into the air as the dealer's head was subsequently reduced to mush. The twit behind Sophia screamed and ran like a bat out of hell, but she paid him no mind. She knew immediately that she had bigger fish to fry.

A writhing mass of black smoke stood over the dealer's corpse, vaguely shaped like a person. Glowing red eyes, accompanied by a smile made out of sharp teeth, formed the "face" that looked back at her with malevolent intent.

"So, you're one of those parahumans I've been hearing about, huh? Thanks for weakening this dipshit for me! He was so pathetic I could hardly stand him!" the parahuman(?) sneered. "I guess I should thank you, huh? Come here, let me give you a hug! I promise I'll be gentle."

After having said that, the villain lunged at her. Sophia ducked beneath the swipe and fell into a somersault, rolling past them and retaliating by putting a few crossbows into his back. To her dismay, the crossbows seemed to fly right through him, making her curse.

Fucker must have a similar power, must make him intangible.

It reminded her far too much of that Undersiders fucker Grue. That solidified her thoughts of killing this bastard where he stood. She need only wait for her golden opportunity.

The villain came at her again, this time going for a full-on swing as his body seemed to expand slightly, his arm doubling in size and becoming like a giant claw. Sophia shifted into darkness, waiting for the blow to phase through her.

To her shock and dismay, the blow hit her dead on and sent her flying, even smashing through the brick wall of a building adjacent to the alley. She spilled out onto the floor, groaning and disoriented as she rose to her feet.

"What-" she gasped. "What the actual fuck? How the fuck?!"

"Kakakaakakakakaka! Surprised, are you? I gotta admit, being able to turn yourself into living shadows is pretty nifty, but unfortunately for you…!"

The villain stepped inside the building, his demonic expression all the more manic.

"Shade of the Sprit Clan is a living shadow too! KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA!"
Couldn't have happened to a nicer girl. Anyway, I'm leaving the chapter off here, because I'm a sadistic fucker.

The next chapter will be the finale of Occult (Prologue), and after that is two interludes, one being a PHO segment and the other focusing on the PRT dealing with Taylor.
 
0.6 Occult (Prologue)
It was in the afternoon that I decided to head back home. If I stayed away any longer, I feared Dad would call the police again and start a manhunt. I honestly did not want to go back home, but in spite of my misgivings with him, I did not want to put Dad through another scare. As complicated as my feelings were towards him, I knew he was scared all to hell when he found out what I had been through at Winslow for the last year. Odds were that he nearly lost the only family he had left after Mom passed away.

I still was not sure what made me lose my temper at him. The last couple of days had been frustrating for me, yeah, but I did not think they were that bad. I am usually better at holding things in. Or maybe Winslow just loosened the cork, who knows?

Still, I definitely did not want to walk into something seriously awkward, especially after I went off at Dad like that. Thus my first order of business was to get him something that might make things less troublesome for the both of us. It would not be an apology gift by any means, but it would help smooth things out.

I took a small detour on the way home, running by the bakery just outside the Boardwalk. I bought Dad a small pack of pastries that he mentioned he wanted to try a while back, then resumed my march back to my home.

During my trek back to Castle Hebert, I thought back to my meeting with the strange blonde woman who called herself Louise Cyphre. She obviously knew who I was if she knew my name, but who was she? She obviously was not a local. There was also the possibility that she was a cape, seeing as how I practically spilled my guts to her. I mean, why in the world would I tell what's happening in my life to a complete stranger?

I wonder if the PRT does Master/Stranger screenings for civilians?

It would be a good idea to inform someone about what happened, but the thought gave me pause. What if the PRT didn't believe me and thought I was pulling some kind of prank? Would they just write me off? Thinking that, I grew a little angry—not at the PRT, but at myself.

Had Winslow made me this much of a defeatist?

Damn it.

Shaking my head, I hastened my way back to home. I ducked into an alleyway to take a shortcut that would lead me to a bus stop, my hand deep in my pocket and holding the can of pepper spray firmly. Stereotypical as it was, all sorts of thugs hid in the alleys or made them their homes. More often than not, Merchants would sequester themselves here, calling out to anyone they thought looked like somebody who wanted to get shot up. They weren't as dangerous as, say, the Empire or the ABB, but they were still people that would not hesitate to beat me bloody.

I made it halfway into the alley when I felt the ground shake from underneath my feet; too weak to be an earthquake but too strong to be a shockwave. I stumbled, nearly falling flat on my face and finding myself at a branching path in the alleys.

"What the hell was that?" I asked myself and looked around. "Is-is there a fight goi-"

The words died in my throat.

I stared, horrified and paling at the sight of the corpse of a Merchant lying not far away. Half his head was gone, leaving behind only his lower jaw. A crossbow bolt sat in his chest, right over where his lung would be. Around him looked like the aftermath of a fight, walls torn down and bits of concrete upended from the earth. The sounds of wicked laughter bounced off the walls of the alleys, accompanied by loud crashing noises and glass shattering. Each time the noises rose in pitch, the ground would shake.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!"

Capes were fighting nearby, and I did not want to be in the middle of it. I turned on my heel, ready to get out of the alley, but I found myself thrown to the ground when the wall next to me exploded into flying bricks and shrapnel. I bounced off the ground and smacked into a concrete wall back-first, eliciting a yelp of pain. My spine felt the brunt of the impact. It did hurt as much as I expected it to, but it was still unpleasant.

My sight was slightly obscured by smoke and dust. Bits and chunks of what remained of the wall spilled out unto the alleyway. I saw a dark-clad figure lying on the ground, gasping and whimpering. As the smoke and dust started to clear, I saw the figure and found myself gasping in shock.

I could never forget that face, even if I tried. Shock ran through me, but the sight of Shadow Stalker distracted my thoughts. She was missing her left leg and her right arm gone. Both were reduced to being bloody stumps that looked as though they had been torn off rather than chopped off. What was even more shocking was the expression Shadow Stalker had.

Every time I saw her, she bore a condescending, arrogant look that made me think she thought she was at the top of the world—that no one could possibly hurt her. The face she was wearing now betrayed that image, utterly fear stricken and overwhelmed by pure horror. Tears were running down her face, either by the fact that she was fighting someone that terrible or that she was missing a leg and arm.

"Awww, are done already? Kakakakaka…"

The cape I assumed was responsible for Shadow Stalker's state stepped into view. A body made completely out of shadows, moving and shifting as though it was alive, and sporting a smile made out of fangs and glowing eyes full of malice. He stepped towards Shadow Stalker, humming some dainty little tune while his fingers slowly grew in length and his smile growing wider.

Shadow Stalker pulled away, pushing herself against the wall behind her and searched for an escape. She turned her head towards me and stared.

Our eyes met.

"H-hel-"

The cape grabbed her by the face, fingers wrapping all around her head like vines.

"Game over."

He squeezed. I was unable to scream, too consumed by the mind-numbing horror overwhelming me at this moment, watching as Sophia Hess' head was crushed like a grape. Skull fragments, bits of flesh, bloody muscles and gray matter oozed from the cape's fingertips. A white ball fell from his grasp, bouncing off the ground and landing in a puddle of liquid. I did not realize it was an eyeball until I saw a red fleshy string attached to it.

I did not know how to process what just occurred before my eyes, nor did I even have time to address it. The cape took a moment to admire his handy work, smiling with childish glee and lapping a tongue across his digits before he craned his head and looked at me.

"Oh? And what have we here? Another tasty little morsel? A stray cat?"

Ba-bump

Oh no. Oh, god, please no.

Ba-bump

"Kakakakakakaka!" The cape threw his head back in laughter. "God? Do you think someone like that will answer your prayers? Sorry, little girl, but I'm afraid you didn't get the memo!"

Ba-bump

"God can't hear you anymore," the cape sneered and approached me.

BA-BUMP BA-BUMP BA-BUMP

I could not move. It did not matter how much I screamed at myself; trying to force my legs to stand up or my fingers to curl into fists or reach for my pepper spray as if it would do something. No matter how hard I tried, I could not move. I was terrified. I just sat there, watching as the cape walked toward me while curling his fingers and uncurling them.

BA-BUMP BA-BUMP BA-BUMP

I saw my life start to flash before my eyes. The days when Mom was still alive, when Emma and I were still kids that played with one another, when life used to be so simple. I saw Mom's funeral and how broken and I Dad had become. I saw how Emma casted me aside like I was garbage. I saw how Winslow broke me down and made into a shadow of who I used to be.

BA-BUMP BA-BUMP BA-BUMP

Dad's face flashed through my mind.

I don't want to die.

BABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMP

I don't want to die.

BABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMP

I don't want to die!

BABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMP

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!



BA-BUMP


[Danger Detected. Threat Detected Towards User. Attempting Start-Up.]

[…]

[Error Detected. Cannot Establish Connection.]

[Resetting.]

[Danger Detected. Threat Detected Towards User. Attempting Start-Up.]

[…]

[Error Detected. Cannot Establish Connection.]

[Initiating Diagnostics.]

[…]

[Anomaly Detected. Scanning.]

[…]

[ERROR! ERROR! CORRUPTION DETECTED! ATTEMPTING PURGE!]

[WARNING! CORRUPTION OF [Admin] EMINENT! ATTEMPTING DISCONNECTION!]

[ERROR! CANNOT DISCONNECT FROM USER! ATTEMPTING RESET!]

[ERROR! ERROR! E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-ERRRRrrrrroRRRRoroOROROROoOORR-]

[…]

[…]

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[…]

[…re-format complete. self-diagnostics complete.]

[all functions operational.]

[initializing activation.]

[…]

[activation successful.]

[attempting connection.]

[…]

[connection established.]

[conflict confirmed.]

[beginning start-up.]

[…]


[QUEEN ADMINISTRATOR/MAGATAMA online.]



The moment he saw smoke in the distance, Triumph dropped everything and made a beeline straight for the disturbance.

"Console, this is Triumph! I see smoke near the Boardwalk! Could be a battle between capes! Do we have any details?!"

"We got nothing, except that it might be Shadow Stalker," Clockblocker told him. "She went AWOL not too long ago. Armsmaster is on his way."

Triumph scowled. Dammit, I told the Director Hess was a risk! As much as he wanted to lambast his superior about Shadow Stalker, he had bigger fish to fry. He could not tell how bad the damage was from here and could only hope things did not escalate. With the utmost haste, he ran as fast as he could. He ignored civilian attempts to garner his attention and told them to flee the area in case things got out of hand.

He arrived on site a few minutes later, not even breaking a sweat. The fight appeared to have started from the alleys and escalated, moving into an empty shop that was for sale before spilling out on to the open street. A few cards parked by the sidewalk were overturned and a street lamp was removed from its position, bent and twisted and impaled deep into the ground. The ground was cracked and upended, signs pointing to immense physical strength.

In the middle of it all were the capes responsible. One was a shadow figure, one he briefly mistook for Shadow Stalker until he saw the elongated fingers and limbs and a mouth made entirely of teeth. Above him, bearing him down with savagery reminiscent of Lung, was a teenage girl wearing a tattered hoodie and sweat pants. Her skin was marked by black tattoos akin to tribal markings, albeit glowing dark blue. Her eyes were dark orchid, burning with raw fury. The most eye-catching thing was the horn sticking out from her neck.

By the look of it, Triumph arrived to see the tail end of it as, with one final roar, the girl brought down linked fists atop the cape's head. His head exploded, followed by his body, in a shower of black liquid. Most landed on the girl's face, but she did not appear to care. She was breathing heavily, glaring at the spot where the cape had been, bearing her fangs.

Triumph stared, unsure what was happening. He heard Clockblocker calling him over the comm.-link, but ignored him for the moment. Ideas about what happened passed his mind, but he could not be sure which was the most plausible. For the moment, he needed to intervene. The girl was a potential danger, and he could not risk her going on a rampage.

"Miss," he called out. "Miss, would you please put your hands behind your head?"

The girl stopped and stared at him, looking ready to leap at him before she stopped herself. She looked at him more closely, confusion settling in over her features before she looked around at the results of her battle with the cape. She then looked at the ground beneath her, at the black bloody stains that were made by her own hands before looking at her hands, finding them dripping in the blood of the cape she had just murdered.

To Triumph's confusion, panic appeared in her eyes. Her hands shook and her shoulders trembled. It took him a few seconds to realize she was hyperventilating and a few more seconds to realize exactly what had happened.

Before he could do anything, the girl's eyes rolled to the back of her head and fell to the ground. "H-hey!" He rushed over to her, immediately checking her condition. Aside from some minor injuries, such as a few bruises and scratches, she appeared to be fine. Up close, he saw how young she was and grimaced. "Fuck, she's just a kid…"

"Triumph, what happened?" Armsmaster called in over the comm-link. "I'm five minutes from your destination. Have you identified the capes?"

"It just ended. I think we got a fresh Trigger. Female, looks like she's Shadow Stalker's age, has glowing tattoos over her body and a horn on her neck. Suggests she's a changer, possibly a brute. As for the other one…"

He looked at the bloody black stains and frowned. He did not know who the cape was or what he was capable of, but even he knew that a body disintegrating into a black bloody puddle was not natural. He did not know if it was the girl's doing, but either way, he had bigger concerns at the moment.

"I don't see Shadow Stalker anywhere. For now, call the ground troops and the police, tell them to cordon off Ali Street."

"Roger that."

With that done, Triumph looked back at the girl. Although he had not encountered very many Changers during his career as a cape, he had to admit that this girl was perhaps the most unique. The glowing lines amid the markings pulsated with light, almost as though they were alive. The horn was curious, especially when he felt how it throbbed under his touch. Looking at her closely, though, Triumph found himself frowning.

Where have I seen her before?

After a moment, it finally clicked in his head. He promptly cursed under his breath, realizing why the girl seemed so familiar when he saw her picture in the report he, Dauntless, Velocity, Assault, Battery and Miss Militia were given. Armsmaster did not receive the report due to him being more preoccupied dealing whatever he was up into his workshop.

Before he could call it in, his comm-link sparked to life.

"Triumph, I need a sit-rep." Director Piggot did not sound happy. "What the hell is going on?"

"…we have a problem, Director. Our new cape. I think I know who she is. It's the girl mentioned from Shadow Stalker's activities in Winslow."

Piggot went quiet for a moment.

"It's Taylor Hebert, ma'am."

What she said next perfectly summed up the situation.

"Fuck."



"My oh my, what a show you gave," Louise purred as she lowered her phone. She stared at the sight of carnage—the maiden battle of Taylor Hebert as she awakened at long last to her newfound potential. "A splendid birth cry if there ever was one. It appears there were no complications with the Magatama integrating with the [Admin]."

"Did you know this would happen?"

"It was an assumption I had. At the very least, I expected her to develop a different power, but this is acceptable." Louise hummed thoughtfully. "I imagine Beelzebub will be interested in her if she survives the days to come, considering the possibilities."

In truth, Louise did not know what would happen when the Magatama would awaken. She believed that it would influence the Queen Administrator to some extent, perhaps alter Taylor Hebert's abilities to an acceptable extent. Or perhaps the Queen Administrator would attempt to understand the properties of the Magatama, finding some way to integrate it. For the Magatama to subsume the Shard entirely and incorporate itself into the Network was not something she expected, but it was a welcome surprise.

At the very least, she wanted to see how the Warrior would react to discovering the aberrations occurring within his Network.

For the moment, her curiosity was satiated. She interfered enough, believing the girl might learn something from their discussion. She would continue to observe and see what the girl would do when the Promised Day arrived. It was to be the day of reckoning after all—to see whether or not man was still bound by the strings of their Maker and the Others.

"Let us depart, my friend."

The hooded teen nodded and turned on his heel, waving his hand. A swirling mass of shadows with a red tint gouged itself open, tearing through reality and opening its maw for them. He stepped inside the threshold first, vanishing into the shadows. Louise stepped in after him, though not before casting another look at the aftermath of Taylor Hebert's new beginning.

Louise smiled. "I look forward to seeing what you will do…"

The portal began to collapse around her. She removed her sunglasses, revealing silver irises with narrow slit-like pupils.

"…second generation Demi-fiend."

The portal disappeared entirely, leaving naught a trace of the observers as the PRT and first-responders finally arrived on scene.
Little to no action here in this chapter, and that was intentional to be honest. This chapter isn't meant to show Taylor fighting the Shade, but give you an idea of what happened. The actual fight itself won't be shown until the PRT interlude, and even then I won't go into too much detail. The purpose of the arc was to build up to what comes next.

I understand this might piss some people off, and that's fine. Just so long as a couple people enjoy what I've written.

On that note, the PHO Interlude is actually ready to be published. I just need to finish writing the PRT interlude and post them both back-to-back.

On an unrelated subject, I have to admit, I do believe that this is the most work I've done in a month. Usually I pump out around under ten chapters a month, but I've been on a fucking roll recently. It makes me happy that I'm getting into the groove of things, but on the other hand, I worry that I might be putting a little too much attention into my Worm fanfics. I've been holding off on writing Pendulum's Fifth Swing because I want to work on these ones more.

Is that bad?

Let me know what you guys think about this chapter. Any thoughts or criticisms?
 
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0.a Occult (Prologue) - PRT Interlude
With the exception of Vista, Aegis and Kid Win, most of the Wards and Protectorate capes were gathered in the main office. Armsmaster stood off to the side, arms folded over his chest while Miss Militia sat in a chair with a leg over her knee. Both senior members looked tense, not that anyone could blame them. Even so, neither could hold a candle to the stone-cold face Director Emily Piggot was wearing as she and those present watched a video recording comprised of shoddy, grainy footage taken from security cameras. They were rough and occasionally moved away from the vital scenes, but for the most part, they captured what they needed for them to see.

The new cape, Taylor Hebert, was on full display as she fought another cape, with vicious savagery. The way she fought was clearly untrained, lacking finesse and control, but she was not lacking in brute strength. Any missed strikes that landed on solid ground or against a wall created a small indenture surrounded by spider-web cracks. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that she was fighting based on pure instinct.

The fight lasted for at least two minutes, mainly a game of cat and mouse. The shadowy cape would constantly evade Taylor while she chased after it, both trading blows with one another. At one point during their struggle, the shadowy cape rammed its hand through her stomach. Such a visceral blow would have caused discomfort for anybody else, but not her. She just powered through it, retaliating by ripping its arm off and taking the fight out into the open streets.

"What the actual hell are we looking at?" Clockblocker found himself asking, not sure what to make of the video. He cringed when he saw the girl take a brutal hit that sent her into a car across the street. The car crumpled beneath her, but she paid it no mind as she grabbed a nearby street lamp and tore it from the ground, proceeding to use it like a makeshift weapon. "Moreover, who is that guy?"

"Unknown," Armsmaster replied. "We found no match on him in the Parahuman Records, so odds are he's a relatively new criminal or he's been hiding for a while. Regardless, the identity of the cape is not our primary concern."

Gallant gaped when he saw Taylor impale the shadowy cape with her makeshift weapon and saw the bastard smile, tearing himself out from impalement and repaying in kind with a brutal punch that knocked Taylor upwards into a nearby building. It was looking less like a fight between capes and more like a savage brawl between monsters.

"Our main concern is Taylor Hebert," Miss Militia said. "Since neither you or Gallant are aware, I'll fill you in. Several days ago, we received an anonymous tip that Shadow Stalker engaged in a bullying campaign that resulted in the hospitalization and near-death of the girl you now see fighting on screen. On January 3rd​, Taylor Hebert was locked inside her locker, which had been filled with waste commonly found inside the trash bins in the girls washrooms. She was discovered a day later when the police came to question Principal Blackwell, having been notified about Taylor's absence by her father."

Clockblocker stared at Miss Militia in shock while Gallant felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. On the one hand, that sounded like something Shadow Stalker would do, but on the other hand, it was another thing entirely for him to hear she actually did it.

It was no secret among the regular soldiers and higher-ups of the PRT that Sophia Hess was not well-liked by the Wards. Although they did their best to interact and form friendly relations with her, she constantly rejected any and all attempts and displayed no small amount of anger and aggression. The only reason she joined the Wards was because it was her only choice; the alternative was being sent to Juvenile Hall.

In truth, Piggot did not want Sophia Hess in the Wards' ranks. It took her only a single meeting to realize that she was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The Wards were comprised of teenagers, all with their own issues and problems stemming from their Trigger events, but Sophia was arguably the worst of the bunch. In fact, she would go so far as to call her psychotic. Whatever sort of baggage the girl had, Piggot did not want in the Wards.

On the other hand, it was easier to keep an eye on her activities by having her within reach. Having a trigger-happy vigilante that had no qualms about murdering someone was not something they wanted as it would cause all sorts of complications and problems. Having someone that might find themselves in a gang was another matter entirely.

Piggot did not believe that Sophia would actually join a gang. For all her faults, the girl did have a sense of justice, albeit a very twisted one. Even so, she could not afford the possibility she would be inducted into a gang.

Now, though, that matter was rendered moot. Sophia Hess was dead, and now they had to deal with the aftermath.

The video eventually ended with what Triumph arrived to see. The cape's death was high unusual, but the Wards were disturbed by how easily the girl could just kill the man.

"This," Emily started. "is a clusterfuck of epic proportions. And for all we know, this is a goddamn PR nightmare waiting to explode in our faces." She swiveled in her chair and addressed Armsmaster. "Sophia Hess' actions were one thing, but this takes precedents. I want to know who was responsible for murdering Shadow Stalker. Armsmaster. What have you and forensics found?"

The Tinker sighed. "Based on the condition of Shadow Stalker's body, the injuries sustained by Taylor Hebert and the damage in the area, it's hard to tell which of these two actually killed her. The current theory is that the unidentified cape is the culprit. The video you saw supports this theory, given that he demonstrated the ability to change his own hands into bladed weaponry. However, we cannot dismiss the possibility that Taylor Hebert may have been the one to do the deed. She does have the motive."

"Preliminary investigations seem to believe that this cape may have been affiliated with the Merchants," Miss Militia added. "We found a Merchant drug dealer dead in an alley not far from where the fighting broke out. We're still looking to see if it is the case, since we've heard no new news about Skidmark recruiting a new cape."

Emily grunted. "Yes, the man certainly does love to announce his new members, doesn't he?" She shook her head. No matter how she looked at this, it was an absolute mess. She still could not believe the fact that a Ward was allowed to get away with a bullying campaign that severe. She could make any number of excuses, like the PRT having no reason to pry into the private lives of their capes, but that did not matter. The bottom line was that Sophia Hess' actions caused this girl to Trigger.

"So…what happens now?" Gallant asked. "With Taylor, I mean."

The Director grunted. "It depends on the evidence. If it proves she murdered Sophia Hess, then she will be judged accordingly. As glad as I am to have my hands rid of Shadow Stalker, it does not change the fact that she may have murdered one of our Wards. On the other hand, if she is innocent and her only crime is murdering the cape that murdered Shadow Stalker, then we'll follow standard procedures. She can either go about her usual daily life-" If such a thing was even possible after what transpired. "-or she can join the Wards."

Clockblocker frowned. "Uh, no offense ma'am, but considering she was bullied by Sophia, wouldn't she be more likely to refuse? I mean, I know I would feel pretty conflicted about working with the guys that had a nutjob like Shadow Stalker as a co-worker."

Loathe as she was to admit it, Clockblocker did pose a good point. Given her history with Sophia Hess, Taylor Hebert was likely to refuse any recruitment attempts with the PRT, not that she could blame her. Even so, there was no harm in trying. With as dire as things were, they needed all the help they could get.

And, of course, those idiots refuse to give us more aid…

Though Piggot understood their reasonings, given that each major city was struggling to deal with their own villains, she still felt irritated by the fact that none were willing to humor her request by sending maybe one or two capes her way, whether by temporary reassignment or on loan until the situation improved.

"Moving on…" Piggot cleared her throat. "Do we have any possible leads on our unknown dead cape? Have we got something to identify him?"

Miss Militia frowned as she gave her report. "It will be some time before we get any results from the lab, but based on the blood samples we retrieved from the scene…"

"The unknown cape's DNA and genomes are different than that of a human," Armsmaster continued. "This implies either the cape was a Case-53 or underwent some sort of augmentation of some kind. We're still trying to make sense of it. I've sent the data over to the Guild. Maybe Dragon and the others can make sense of it all."

"Perhaps…"

"So, what do we tell Hess' parents?" Clockblocker asked suddenly. "I mean…"

Piggot grimaced. She had actually been avoiding that subject, hoping to bring it up last. Sophia's family was unaware of her activities as a cape, though whether or not Sophia had any plans of informing them about it, she was not sure. Regardless, the "disappearance" of one's daughter, and from a public standpoint a cape, was not something that would be handwaved so easily. They would have to issue an official public statement soon before things could get out of hand. The last thing Piggot wanted was for the media to start raising a stink.

Before she could make a reply, a loud beeping noise filled the room. All eyes fell on Armsmaster, who looked at his bracer. "Director, it's Dragon. She says it's urgent."

"Patch her through."

Within moments, the Canadian woman's face appeared on the screen that was previously being used to view the security footage of Taylor Hebert's actions. She appeared rather panicked.

"Director Piggot, we have a problem. A major one."

Piggot raised a brow. "What sort of problem?"

"Someone recorded Taylor Hebert's battle with the unknown cape and has posted it on social media."

"WHAT!"

Shock filled the room. Dragon's face contorted with similar concern as the same footage that had been playing before was played again, this time from a new angle. The quality of the footage implied better equipment, and the position told them it was being filmed from a high vantage point such as a rooftop. The footage was also being shown on a social media sight.

Gallant scowled. "Son of a bitch…"

"I've already taken down the video, but it's being reposted on other media sites. I'm doing what I can on my end, but…"

Armsmaster gritted his teeth. "How many people have seen the video?"

"…enough that Taylor Hebert's identity as a cape is now public."

Piggot slammed her fist into the desk.

Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse…
 
0.b Occult (Prologue) - PHO Interlude
■​

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■​

♦ Topic: The New Ward
In: Boards ► News ► Events ► America ► Brockton Bay
Bagrat
(Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Jan 14th 2011:
A couple of days ago, a video was uploaded on the web. It's since been reposted, but for anyone curious, here is the link.

The PRT issued an official statement and confirmed the individual in the video has joined the Wards. They've also requested that the public and other parties try not to harass the girl's family as well.

On the one hand, I'm always excited for some new blood on the Wards. On the other hand, myself and a few others do share some concerns based on what we saw in that video.

Regardless, I feel sorry for the poor girl after being outed like that.

(Showing page 1 of 50)

►Dawgsmiles
(Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
First off, holy shit that was fucking brutal. She tore that thing apart with her bare hands! And secondly, I'm digging the tattoos. Gotta ask why in the fuck they're glowing, though.

►WhedonRipperFan
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Oh, so the FUCKING HORN ON HER NECK doesn't catch your attention?!

►Antigone
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
I have no idea why anybody would film this or who would do it, but you have to admit, outing someone's identity like this is a whole new low.

I guess it just comes to show that the Unwritten Rules are called "Unwritten" for a reason.

►Lo A Quest
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
She looks like she came out of a heavy metal band album cover ngl

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Wait, that's Taylor Hebert? For real?

►TheGnat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Huh. You're here awfully early, Void. And yeah, that's what the info says.

I feel bad for her dad, though. Being the parent of an outed cape is not an experience I'd like to live anytime soon. For her sake, I hope none of the bastards in the bay go after him just to recruit her.

►Good Ship Morpheus
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Forget that, can we talk about what in the holy hell just happened.

I mean, dude, what the hell was that thing anyhow? That thing looked like a Case-53, but I can't be sure.

►BadSamurai
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Knowing Void, he'll probably say its an alien or how he wants to try and score with the new girl.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
She's a cape.

Holy fuck.

She's actually a cape.

►AverageAlexandros (Cape Husband)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
You doin' okay there, Void?

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
I-I know her. I went to school with her.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Waitwaitwait, what?

►TinMother (Moderator)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
@XxVoid_CowboyxX
Reminder that discussing the personal life of a cape is not allowed on the forum, regardless of whether or not the cape's identity is public knowledge.

►Coyote-C
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
We already got info about how she triggered, thanks to the news hounds and stories coming out of the flood gates.

Not pointing fingers at you or anything, want to make that perfectly clear, but did you do anything about the bullying?

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
wtf how could I have done anything?! You weren't there! Tell you what, you go to Winslow and try going up against the Alpha Bitch Trio! Last guy who tried ended up getting humiliated in front of the whole damn school!

►AverageAlexandros (Cape Husband)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
I just read some of the news articles online.

What the hell is wrong with the teachers? I know Winslow was a cesspit, but this had nothing to do with gang violence whatsoever!

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Dude, it's Winslow.

The teachers couldn't give two shits about what happens unless it's going to happen to them.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
For once, I agree with Void.

Winslow should honestly just be condemned at this point.

►Laser Augment
Replied On Jan 15th 2011:
You know, seeing that weird thing (is it really a Case-53?) and how brutally this Taylor girl was ripping it to shreds...

Is she, you know, even human anymore?

► Morning Star
Replied On Jan 15th 2011:
Oh, she's quite human. But she's become a little something more now these days.

I imagine the days ahead of us will be most fascinating indeed.

Don't you think?

■​
 
Rebirth 1.1
Rebirth
[noun] the process of being reincarnated or born again



"My, my, my… To think someone like you would find themselves here…"

A voice stirred me awake. My eyes opened, greeted by writhing darkness. Everything was pitch-black. I was unable to see anything, but I could tell there was someone or something here. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, it began to pull away. Everything grew into focus and revealed my surroundings. I was floating, hovering above a pool of red (blood?) with pulsating orange walls of pus and flesh surrounding me. Rust orange grates decorated the walls, red fluids seeping out and pouring down into the pool. Behind those grates were eyes, all inhuman.

Despite the nightmarish presence of this place, in front of me was a stage with a black-and-white checkered floor with a fireplace. Above the mantle was the stuffed head of a goat, candelabrums on either side and sitting on the fireplace mantle. In the center of the room was a brown circular table with a vase. Inside the vase was a single black flower. Next to the table were two people. One was a woman clad in black and a veil over her face as though she were attending a funeral. In front of her was an old man sitting in a wheel chair, dressed in an expensive-looking white suit and holding a cane. He looked ancient; numerous deep wrinkles and sunken cheeks, graying platinum blonde hair and milky gray eyes.

I stare at the old man in wonder, and he in turn stared back. At that moment, I felt something writhe in my head. A wave of unpleasantness takes hold. I felt confused, disgusted and…terrified. I felt weak and helpless, as though the man's presence rendered me little more than an ant he could crush beneath his heel. The longer he looked at me, the more uncomfortable I felt.

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Oho…? So, the Warrior's Mind has taken root within you has it? How interesting…" He leaned on his side, knuckles providing his neck rest. "And I see the beginnings of uncertainty. What was once a pillar has begun to crack, and rising up from its corpse is a new possibility… But what sort of possibility is it that you carry? A mindless drone who caters the words of the Divine Host? Or one who yearns to cast off your chains?"

The throbbing pain in my head grew worse. I curl in on myself, holding my head in my hands as if it would help me. I felt something tear its way into my mind. It clawed its way deeper, shifting through everything that made up 'me'. It did so not because of malice, but of curiosity. Something intrigued it, and it did not care if it caused me discomfort so long as its curiosity was satiated.

Something inside of me rejected it. It fought back, pushing back against this foreign invader. A soundless scream ripped from my throat as the pain intensified.

Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. The invader pulled away and it relented.

The old man's smile widened. "I see, I see… It would appear you would walk the path of thorns. Yet I see it leads to a crossroad…"

He turned his head to the woman behind him and gave a nod. The woman bowed her head and stepped around him, approaching the edge of the stage. It's only then I noticed something in her hands.

"It is not often a human catches the attention of my master, Taylor Hebert," the woman said lamely. "Nor is it common for him to take such an interest in one touched by the worms. My master has seen fit to give you a gift—in honor of your meeting with him, and to prepare you for the trials that wait."

She extended her hand and threw the object in her hand into the air. It flies through the air slowly and in a straight line, as if attracted toward my being. It looked like the petrified remains of something, vaguely resembling a worm with large pincers and curled into a comma-like shape. As it drew closer, I could see it pulsate. Red sparks danced across its body. It started to twitch.

It was alive.

"Fret not, Taylor Hebert. It will hurt for only a moment."

It's only now that I realized something about the woman's voice. It sounded very much like my mother. But what should have been kind words were something else. I could feel encouragement and the gentleness of a mother's words, but it's perverted and wrong.

Suddenly, the petrified remains unfurl and writhe. I tried to pull away, but I found myself frozen. My limbs were heavy as if weighed down by something. I can do nothing but watch as the worm-like thing writhes its way toward me, a series of blood-red eyes staring back hungrily.

It slithered toward my eye.

"This will make you into a demon."

The old man showed his teeth, smiling as the worm tore through my eye and burrowed its way into my skull.

I screamed.



I found myself flying up from a bed, panting and covered in sweat. It took me only a moment to realize I was not in pain, and a moment longer to realize that I was not in my bedroom. I looked to be in what I assumed was a medical ward or something. It was not the hospital as it lacked the plain white walls and gurneys I was used to seeing from my brief tenure there as the walls were dull gray, and there was a distinct lack of beds.

There was also the fact that my wrists were bound in handcuffs, which was worrisome enough all on its own.

"Where am I?" I asked no one in particular. "I could have sworn I was…"

It came rushing back to me then. The image of Sophia Hess—of Shadow Stalker being killed by some monster that was about to kill me too. I remembered the feeling of helplessness, the rush of anger and fury, the explosion of murderous intent. I remembered how much I wanted to live and how much I wanted to kill that thing before it could kill me. I remember beating it into the ground and tearing it apart.

My stomach lurched and threatened to expel bile up my throat.

"I feel sick…"

I still don't understand who or what that thing was, or what came over me. What happened back there, it felt primal, like my instincts kicked into overdrive and told me to fight like hell. If I didn't fight, I would die. And so I fought; I kicked, I clawed, I punched, I bit, and I tore it apart until it was reduced to splatters. The part that frightened me the most was the sheer adrenaline and excitement of it all.

It was disgusting, enjoying such violence. That I liked killing someone, even if that person was trying to kill me.

The door to the room slid open. I looked up and blinked. It was a man in a suit with a badge attached to the lapels of his jacket and the PRT insignia branded on his sleeve. He looked like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in days judging by the dark rings under his eyes. When he saw me, his eyes widened for a moment before a wry smile began to form on his face.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss Hebert," he said tiredly. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions?" I nodded slowly. "Today's your lucky day, then. My name is Thomas Calvert."

From there, he proceeded to explain where I was and why I was here. We were currently in the PRT headquarters' infirmary. After my panic attack, realizing the extent of what I did when I fought that shadow bastard, Triumph had taken me back to treat my injuries. That was unnecessary since they later discovered my wounds had somehow healed while I was unconscious. For my own safety, as well as theirs, Tinker-designed handcuffs were fashioned to my wrists and to the bed railings so I didn't get any funny ideas.

From there, he asked me about what I was doing in the area, followed up by asking about my side of the story. He bluntly told me that I was under suspicion for the death of one of their Wards. I told him the truth; I was taking an alternate route home, discovered the body of a Merchant and was about to get out of the alley when Sophia came flying through a wall, missing an arm and a leg before being killed.

"You had a history with Shadow Stalker?" Calvert looked surprised.

I nodded. "You could say that, yeah. To be honest, I was hoping I wouldn't have to see her again anytime soon."

"I see…" He wrote down something in his little notebook before he closed it, putting it away in his coat pocket along with his pen. "Thank you for your time, Miss Hebert. By the way, regarding your appearance…"

I frowned. "My appearance?" I looked down at myself and gasped. Now that I was fully cognizant, I saw the pulsating, glowing tattoos that marked by body. I looked down my shirt, finding the tattoos there as well. "W-what the… What is this?"

"Well, you did undergo a horrific event not too long ago. You are aware that people develop powers after undergoing traumatic circumstances such as yours, yes?"

"B-but that can't be right. I Triggered back in January!" I realized my mistake the moment those words fell from my mouth. Calvert stared. I cursed under my breath. "It…it was back in school, at the start of the school year. I was trapped inside my own locker for a whole day, and no one came to help me. I was stuck in the hospital for two weeks before I was allowed to go home. After that, I learned I could control bugs."

The PRT officer looked skeptical. "You mean you could control bugs?"

I nodded. As a demonstration, I tapped into my power. Almost immediately, I connected to at least thirteen dozen bugs hiding away in the building. With nothing but a mental snap of my fingers, the bugs began to converge. The ones closest to me came from their hideaways in the vents and cracks in the floor. Slowly, more came until a small gathering of bugs formed on the wall across from me and Calvert.

He looked at the bug-infested wall, back at me, and then back to the wall. I knew then that this situation became a lot more complicated.



Two hours later, I was taken from the infirmary. I would have squealed in awe and utter giddiness for getting to meet Armsmaster in person, but the seriousness of the situation, plus the grim look on his face, told me everything I needed to know.

I said nothing, too worried and afraid of what was going on. Was it possible that the PRT considered me a criminal for murdering that man, even if it was in self-defense? Did they really believe I killed Sophia? Part of me wanted to rage and cry foul at the injustice, but at the same time, I knew nothing. For all I know, this was about something else, maybe a recruitment pitch.

After ten minutes of walking through the halls of the PRT and a two minute elevator ride, Armsmaster led me inside a large room. Sitting behind a desk was none other than the Protectorate ENE Director Emily Piggot, who looked like all she wanted to do was lie down and rest. Sitting across from her was…

"Dad?"

Dad leaped up from the chair and made a beeline for me. I could do nothing but accept the bear-crushing hug he gave me. "Oh, thank god you're okay!" he sobbed. "I thought that you…"

Well, this was awkward. I wrap my arms around him and return the gesture. He didn't want to let go of me.

Director Piggot cleared her throat. Dad and I jumped and part from each other. "As heartwarming as this is, may we please get to the matter at hand?"

"Er, yes, of course…" Dad and I took a seat across from the Director. I glanced over at Armsmaster, who was standing near the door like some sort of sentinel. Did he think I was going to try and make a break for it? "I take it this is about my daughter and…what happened?" I looked away as he cast a small glance in my direction, no doubt looking at the tattoos and the horn on my neck. I hadn't even noticed that until I went to rub the back of my neck, nearly impaling my own hand in the process.

Director Piggot frowned. "That's one of the reasons, yes…but I'm afraid the major reason is to discuss your options."

Wait, what?

"Options?" I asked. "W-what do you mean?"

Rather than answer us directly, the Director nudged her head toward Armsmaster, who did something on his gauntlet. The large TV screen fixed to the wall flickered to life, showing what looked like a video feed of an open street and—

Oh.

Oh, Jesus Christ…

"W-what the hell is this?" Dad said, his face growing pale.

"That, Mr. Hebert, is the worst possible situation to ever happen," Calvert said morosely. "This recording was taken hours ago by an unknown civilian, who then proceeded to post it on numerous social media sites."

I felt my blood turn cold. My heart sinks to my stomach. Dad whipped around and gaped at the two, his mouth opening and closing. "W-what? I don't understand, w-what does that mean?!"

"What it means," Armsmaster's voice rung hollow in the deafening silence that followed. "Is that virtually the whole world now knows your daughter is a cape."

Dad stumbled and collapsed into his chair, pale as a ghost. I looked at the ground, my heart hammering against my chest.

Everyone in the world was seeing that. They saw me, beating down a criminal who was going to kill me if I hadn't killed him first. They knew I was a cape. Emma, Madison, Greg, everyone knew.

I felt like throwing up.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry this happened," Director Piggot sounded sincere. "Dragon attempted to remove the video as best she could, but as it stands…"

My fingers curl into my shirt. "…what happens now?"

"That would be up to you two." Both me and Dad looked up. "As it stands, you have two options. The first would be for you two to relocate. You would have to change your names, enter protective services, move to another city. Granted, it would be difficult for Taylor unless her current appearance is temporary or she can change it at will. The other option would be…"

She did not finish her sentence. She didn't have to. The second option was obvious.

Dad squeezed my hand. "…Director Piggot, could I have a moment with my daughter?"

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Mr. Hebert."

Aaaaaand here we are with the new arc. Not much to go into here, except maybe the opening segment involving the Old Man and the Woman in Black.

I'll say this before people start making claims. The Woman in Black is not Annette Hebert. Let me explain why for those who have not played Nocturne.

There are two Women in Black. One is an elderly woman who is almost always seen with the Child who dumped the Magatama into the Demi-fiend's eye, and the other is a younger woman who provides an info dump every time you progress far enough into the Labyrinth of Amala. The Woman in Black who accompanies the old man makes certain remarks and gestures that makes the player think they are Miss Yuko, the Demi-fiend's teacher who goes missing when the Conception occurs.

It's implied that the second Woman in Black is using Yuko's form as a means to earn the Demi-fiend's trust, or at the very least dons a form similar to Yuko to make it easier for her boss to test him.

In this case, the Woman in Black in Adapt is using Annette's form. Hope this clears up any confusion.
 
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